Between Here and Gone
by lovablegeek
Summary: There's only one thing he wants from her right now... RogerMimi [One shot]


Roger slumped against Mimi, pulling her carefully onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her tightly as he dared, pressing his lips to her cheek, her temple, her forehead, reaching up with one hand to tilt her face toward his and give her a long, lingering kiss, shaking a little. It didn't matter that he was still crying, that there were still tears on his cheeks or that his throat had tightened up so he couldn't really manage to speak anymore – what mattered was that she was here, in his arms, alive. What mattered was that she was kissing him back warmly, one hand resting on the side of his face, gently wiping away the tears with her thumb.

He didn't really notice the others – Maureen perching on the other end of the table, grinning brightly, Joanne right beside her, Mark and Collins standing a bit farther back, by the couch, watching Roger and Mimi with a sort of quiet happiness. The others had, for the moment, faded into the background, and he couldn't take his eyes off of Mimi, his beautiful Mimi, still beautiful even as thin and unhealthy and faded as she looked now. Still his little wild angel. He broke the kiss at last to pull back and just look at her, tears starting in his eyes again as she met his gaze and smiled faintly, wordlessly, a slightly faded version of the smile that had first made him take notice of her. Roger pulled her back to him quickly, cradling her against his chest, pressing his face into her hair and trying to memorize everything about the way she felt in his arms, the way her body curled against his.

It was funny, really, how no one spoke, how everyone seemed to sense that this was not the time to speak, that no one needed to when all that needed to be said could be done so in looks and touches, desperate clinging and kisses and smiles. It wasn't entirely silent, with Roger's slightly ragged breathing, or the rustle of cloth as Mimi moved to wrap her arms around his neck a little more tightly, the creak of the table as Joanne moved to sit down beside Maureen, or Mimi's occasional coughing fit, rough-edged and painful enough that they all winced in sympathy and Roger clung to her a little more tightly, but it was close enough to silence, close enough that a sort of peace settled over the room. It was a distant, cautious peace, one that just barely held back the storm, a peace that acknowledged the fear of a few minutes ago and the pain that_ would _come in the near future, but a peace nonetheless. For the moment, he had her, and for the moment, they were safe.

"Roger?" Mimi said at last, her voice soft in the quiet room.

Roger pulled back a little to look her in the eye. "Yeah?"

"I'm... a little tired. Can we...?"

"Yeah. Of course. I'll just, um..." He carefully gathered her to his chest, shifting his grip on her a bit so that he could hold her properly, and slid off the table, careful not to jar her too much in the process. He glanced momentarily to Mark, who gave him a quick smile and a wave to Roger's bedroom, his expression saying plainly, _Go to your room; be with her. _Roger smiled back at him, a little shakily, and murmured, "See you in the morning," before carrying Mimi to his bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed and curling up beside her before pulling the blankets over them both.

Mimi shifted a little and pressed against him as close as she could, eyes closed, one fist balled up in his shirt, head resting against his chest and her entire body snug against him like she was trying to meld into him, couldn't get close enough to him, and that last part he certainly couldn't disagree with. He kept his arms around her, lips pressed against her hair, until her grip on his shirt loosened a little, the tension drained from her muscles, breathing slowed a little, until she was asleep. Roger lifted one hand slowly to run his fingers lightly over her face, following the gentle contours he'd missed so much, leaning back a little just to look at her. She could sleep, but he already knew he wouldn't, not tonight, already knew he would be up all night, staring at her, listening to every breath, absorbing every fucking moment so he wouldn't forget it, not ever.

"I love you," he whispered, softly enough that it wouldn't wake her. "God, I love you, baby, I always have. Please stay here, please stay with me, that's all I want. Please stay with me. All I want is for you to be here in the morning..."


End file.
